In the Himalayan region,
there’s a mountain named Samaṅga.
I had a well-built hermitage
furnished with halls of leaves there then.

Named Nārada, with matted hair,
I practiced fierce austerities.
Fourteen thousand students back then
are worshipping me in that place.

Being off in solitude then,
I contemplated in this way:
“All of the people worship me
but I don’t worship anyone.

I do not have an advisor;
there is no one who speaks to me;
no teacher and no preceptor,
I come to a home in the woods.

There is not a teacher for me
whom I am giving honor to,
and serving with respectful heart;
my forest-dwelling’s meaningless.

I’ll search for one to give gifts to,
and to be respected by me;
I will live enjoying his help,
whom no one will find blameworthy.

Very near my hermitage,
there was a river with high banks,
with good slopes, which was beautiful
and strewn about with pure white sand.

Having approached it at that time,
the river named named Amarika,
after piling up some sand, I
built a stupa out of that sand.

“Those men who were the Sambuddhas,
Enders of Becoming, Sages,
I’ll make this with the marks of a
stupa such-like those built for them.”

Having built my stupa of sand,
as though I made it out of gold,
I covered it with three thousand
gold-colored kiṅkhani flowers.

I am praising evening and morn,
filled with joy, hands pressed together.
As though facing the Sambuddha,
I worshipped that stupa of sand.

When defilements get produced or
pre-occupations with the house,
I recall that well-made stupa,
and always look at them like this:

“Living having depended on
the Meaning-Conveyor, the Guide,
it’s not appropriate for you
to live with defilements, Good Sir.

When I bend down at the stupa,
then respect arises in me;
I drive out bad reflections like
an elephant pained by the goad.

The King of Death then trampled me,
conducting my life in that way.
Passing away right on the spot,
I went to the world of Brahmā.

Dwelling there for the whole lifespan,
I was born among the thirty.
Eighty times the lord of the gods,
I exercised divine rule there.

And then three hundred times I was
a king who turns the wheel of law,
and I enjoyed much local rule,
innumerable by counting.

I’m enjoying the results of
three thousand kiṅkhani flowers.
Twenty-two thousand people are
waiting on me in every life.

Due to worshipping the stupa,
I am not soiled with dirt and dust;
my limbs are not exuding sweat;
I’m radiantly beautiful.

O! the stupa well-made by me;
Amarika River’s well-seen!
Having built a stupa of sand,
I’ve attained the unshaking state.

“Field” or “Not-Field” aren’t distingished
by a person seeking the pith,
who desires to do wholesome deeds;
his practice is thus accomplished.

Just as a person with great strength
is able to cross a river;
carrying a protective stick,
he would spring across a large lake,
so I, depending on this stick,
will cross the great sea of being:
through his effort and energy
a man would cross over the sea.

And so too the karma I did,
which was my little protection;
depending on that karma done,
I crossed over re-becoming.

When my last rebirth was attained,
incited by my wholesome roots,
I am reborn in Śrāvasti,
in a wealthy clan with big halls.

My mother and father had faith,
gone to the Buddha for refuge;
they had both seen the deathless state,
turning to the dispensation.

Taking bark from the Bodhi tree
they built a stupa made of gold.
They’re praising it evening and morn,
face to face with the Śākyas’ Son.

They passed three watches of the night,
praising the Buddha’s appearance,
outside the stupa made of gold,
on a day when the moon was full.

I, having seen the gold stupa,
remembered the stupa of sand.
Sitting down on a single seat,
I attained my arahantship.

The Twenty-Second Recitation Portion
Searching for him, the Great Hero,
I saw the Dhamma’s general.
Having departed from the house,
I went forth in that one’s presence.

Being only seven years old,
I attained my arahantship.
Knowing my virtue, the Buddha,
the Eyeful One, then ordained me.

The work has been completed by
me, even when I was a child;
what’s to be done was done by me,
in the Buddha’s dispensation.

All hate and fear is in the past;
all bonds overcome, I’m a sage.
I’m you’re follower, Great Hero:
the fruit of a golden stupa.

My defilements are now burnt up;
all new existence is destroyed.
Like elephants with broken chains,
I am living without constraint.

Being in Best Buddha’s presence
was a very good thing for me.
The three knowledges are attained;
I have done what the Buddha taught!

The four analytical modes,
and these eight deliverances,
six special knowledges mastered,
I have done what the Buddha taught!

Thus indeed Venerable Puḷinathūpiya Thera spoke these verses.

The legend of Puḷinathūpiya Thera is finished.